by Edie Ramer
He clasped the chair arms. If he thought Abby would say anything to Cara, he wouldn’t talk to her. But of course she wouldn’t. He got off his chair and went to the table where he’d left his cell phone. There was no excuse not to tell Abby.
A moment later, he listened to Grace tell him that Abby was on a date.
***
Mom and the man had driven away, but the man’s smell lingered in the living room. The scent was familiar, and so was the man. Minnie remembered him from all the years ago, when she’d been very young. The man had petted her and had made Mom laugh.
Then he’d made Mom angry. And when Mom got angry, so did Minnie.
She’s with the wrong man, she told Quigley, who sat on the cat ladder’s top perch. He liked being on top, and for the most part, Minnie let him go up there.
But every once in a while, she would run up and knock him down to the floor.
Just to show him who was really the boss.
She likes men who are wrong, Quigley said.
No, she doesn’t. She says they’re fun while they last.
What does that mean?
Minnie quickly licked a paw before replying. It’s like chasing a bug. It’s fun for a while, but when you catch it, it’s not as fun.
It’s fun for me. I eat bugs. If this man is wrong, I can scratch and bite him.
Let’s wait. I didn’t smell her mating scent before they left, just his.
Maybe this is about the business. Maybe that’s why she left with him.
Minnie leaped up the ladder until she was on the perch below Quigley’s. Quigley, that’s very smart of you.
I can be smart.
Of course you can. Minnie reached up a paw and patted his head. It was important to encourage him when he did something right. Maybe he might even do it more often.
Then she turned and jumped down, perch by perch.
She would wait until Mom came home again. Then she would see if she should tell Quigley to use his claws to rip the man’s face open.
***
Music spilled out of the bar, onto the sidewalk where Abby sat at a small table, holding a beer and leaning toward her surprise date. It was dusk out, day blending into night, and three young women walked past them, three young men following close behind, like bloodhounds after rabbits. Abby felt free and young herself tonight, her blood pulsing in time with the music.
“I still can’t believe your aunt fixed me up with you.” She grinned at Ryan Ramsay. He was still a hunk with his tousled, golden-blond hair and his bright blue eyes. He even came with dimples, the whole package. Maybe too much of a package. For her, at least. Already tonight, a couple young women had strutted by, giving him the eye and sticking out their assets, top and bottom, for him to ogle.
“You know what Aunt Daisy said?” he asked.
“That I was funny and cute and smart?”
He laughed. “That you were all wrong for me. We’re too alike, and we wouldn’t have a speck of attraction.”
“And she’s right.” Abby lifted the beer to her mouth.
“Nope, she’s wrong.”
Abby fought to swallow the beer before she laughed. “You mean you’d do me?”
“In a second.”
“A second? Is that how long you last?”
The waiter, stopping at their table with a cheeseburger and chips for him and fries for her, laughed.
Ryan grinned. When the waiter left, he said, “Hey, give me credit. I can go for at least twenty seconds.”
She smiled at him, relaxed and in her zone. No tension, which was good. No sexual tension, which wasn’t good.
In another time and place—the awful years after her parents had died—on the few nights Grace slept over at a friend’s, she would’ve done him, too. Just to feel alive and wanted and not alone.
It was a good thing she hadn’t run into him during those years. Not while...
Well, it didn’t matter, she reminded himself. His brother was engaged to the perfect Portia, and she doubted they were celibate.
“Hey, something wrong with the fries?”
She shook her head and forced a smile. “They’re greasy and unhealthy as hell. The best kind.”
He lifted his burger, took a large bite, and chewed with his mouth closed while a glob of ketchup dribbled down the corner of his mouth.
If he’d been a different man—like his brother—she might be tempted to get up, lean toward him, and lick the ketchup off his face.
Life was playing tricks on her again.
Instead, she handed him a napkin and pointed at his chin.
“Something’s wrong?” He wiped the ketchup from his face. “What is it? I’ll take care of it.”
She wrinkled her nose and shrugged one shoulder. “You don’t want to hear about it.”
“I’m a good listener.”
“Really?”
“Ah, a skeptic.” He leaned forward. “It’s true. The secret of my success with the opposite sex. The best aphrodisiac is just listening to a woman. Not trying to fix her, just listening.”
She chuckled. “That sounds like you. I admire your honesty. It’s too bad I’m not attracted to you.”
“Shouldn’t I get a consolation prize for making you laugh?”
“Sure.” She held out her plate to him. “Have a fry.”
He took one. “Worth the evening out. So what have you been doing since we last saw each other?”
“Your brother didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“That I’m in the same business as your family.”
His brows slashed down, the easygoing enjoyment on his face wiped out. “A furniture company?”
She nodded. “So far, we’re going custom. We’re looking to acquire backing, and then we’ll buy a plant.”
He still frowned, his eyes narrowed as he pinned her with a fierce gaze that made her smile sweetly at him. “You might want to build the plant in a different city,” he said, a hard edge to his voice. “I don’t think there’s enough room—or business—to fit another plant in this one.”
She stared at him. With a half scowl instead of his usual genial smile, he looked harder and older. Like someone who had responsibilities. Someone who cared about his company.
“You didn’t ask what kind of furniture,” she said.
His expression didn’t change.
She had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. “You’re protective about your company. You surprise me.”
“Most people are surprised, but I’ve grown up.”
“You’re more like your brother than I thought.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Then I guess it’s okay to tell you that we make cat furniture.”
His expression cleared, and he looked younger and carefree again. “No kidding.”
“I’m as serious as a graveyard.”
“I can think of some unserious things to do in a graveyard.”
She groaned, and he laughed.
“The cat tables and ladder I saw in your living room?” he asked. “Did you make that?”
“My partner does most of the building. I do most everything else. We have more models that we make, plus we build furniture to spec. A client who lives in a loft condo with a high ceiling wanted us to build a tunnel of boxes for his cats that hang from his ceiling, and we just did that special for him.”
“That’s cool. I’d like to see it.”
“You’re serious? It’s in my partner’s barn right now. I can take you to look at it.” A Maroon 5 song spilled out of the bar, and she waved her hand at the bar. “Unless you want to wait for karaoke hour?”
“Not unless you do. I can listen to karaoke singing any night.”
“I was hoping to sing and watch everyone’s horrified faces, but I suppose I can pass.”
“We could do both,” he said, grinning.
She laughed. “Finish your burger, and we can go.”
“Done.” He took out hi
s wallet as she looked at his plate and saw he’d eaten his burger already, only potato chips left.
“So you eat fast, too,” she said.
The waiter stopped at the table with their bill and made a choking sound of suppressed laughter. Ryan shook his head, but his lips pressed together in a smile as the waiter left with his money.
“You’re going to ruin my reputation,” he said.
“You have a reputation?” She stood. “I’ve heard of guys like you.”
“Your mom warned you against them?” He got to his feet, and they started walking along the sidewalk.
“My mother just told me not to settle for someone who didn’t treat me well.”
“I could treat you well.”
“I’m sure you could.” While it lasted, she thought.
“But you’re not interested.”
She frowned at him. “You know I’m babysitting for your niece, don’t you?”
“Holden didn’t mention it. I wonder why not.” He grimaced, steering her to his parked car. “He knows we dated all those years ago. After you came to our grandparents’ house for your book, he reamed me good.”
His words made her feel warm inside and out. Knowing her cheeks must be flushing, she was grateful for the darkness gathering around them.
Some things she didn’t want him to find out. Didn’t want anyone to find out.
She got into the car, and he closed the door. Seconds later, he was in the driver’s seat, saying, “He probably didn’t want to remind me that you were still single. He wouldn’t leave Cara with you unless he thought you could be trusted. He’d be afraid I’d corrupt you.”
“I’m not that easy to corrupt.”
“I know.” He sighed dramatically. “To my deep regret.”
As she shook her head, he pulled out of the parking lot. The windows were open, the weather was perfect, the man was witty and good-looking. She looked at him and felt sadness because he was not the right person....
And neither was she.
She could fix a lot of things, but that wasn’t one of them.
12
“Hey, Sam, I’m on my way to the barn.” Abby held her cell phone to her ear. “I’m showing a friend the cat furniture.”
“Oh.”
The one-word sentence didn’t surprise Abby. Sam was better with her wood tools than words. But it was the tone she used, making it one word short of oh shit.
“You don’t have to come out. I have the key. When we leave, I’ll turn off the lights and lock up.”
“That’s fine, then.” Her tone was normal as she said goodbye.
“Sam?” Ryan asked.
“Short for Samantha.”
“I knew a girl named Samantha,” he said.
She gave him a sideways look. “I’m sure you knew a lot of girls. Just drive.”
By the time they arrived, it was night. A quarter moon shone down on them. About three-fourths up the driveway, it split into a Y shape. The left side angled off to the garage by the house, with the lights mounted on either side of the garage door on. The right curved to the barn, the lights off.
After they turned toward the barn, Ryan slowed the car to a crawl, and the tires veered onto the grass, off of the stone and gravel driveway. Abby, who’d been looking at the barn, glanced at him and saw his head twisted toward the garage.
“You’re on the grass.”
He straightened the steering wheel, gazing toward the dark barn. “I thought I recognized the car parked outside the garage.”
She twisted to peer at the car. “It’s not Sam’s. Probably a friend’s.”
“Does the friend have a name?”
“I imagine she does.”
“She?” He parked in front of the barn and looked at her inquiringly.
“She,” she said, no hesitation.
“Huh.” He looked at her, and she looked back. She didn’t know how he’d caught on so quickly, but some guys were tuned into the nuances. She didn’t say anything, just got out of the car. Sam didn’t hide her sexual preference, but it was no one’s business but hers.
With the lights off, it took a couple minutes to unlock the doors, step inside, and turn on the lights. A half smile of wonder spread on Ryan’s face, as if he were a kid who’d stepped into Santa’s toy factory. He walked around the barn, peering up and down and side to side. Checking out everything, from a ladder with a perch on each step, to a cat throne, to the walkway on top. Rubbing his hands on the different woods and the carpeted surfaces. Looking at the different cat pads and the patterns. Asking her questions about the designs. He even climbed up the ladder perch—shoeless, because Abby insisted he take off his shoes.
She laughed at him, and he laughed back at her.
Climbing down from the ladder, he asked, “How come we’re not burning up for each other? We get along so great.”
“Opposites attract,” she said, but she didn’t get it either. It would be easy to be with him. But instead, she was attracted to his uptight brother. His uptight, engaged brother.
Perhaps it was a way to pass on different genes to children. Or maybe her hormones were messing with her.
Ryan came to her side and slung his arm around her shoulders. She leaned against him, looking at the cat furniture for the second time that day. It was gratifying seeing it through his eyes, but it had been even more gratifying to see it through his brother’s. Holden was harder to please, and when he was impressed, it meant something special.
“Why are you babysitting?” Ryan asked. “When you have this?”
She shrugged. “The usual reason. Money.”
“Ah.” He didn’t say anything right away. Just stood with his arm around her. A peacefulness stole into Abby, and she could tell he felt it, too, his hold relaxed and his breaths even. He turned to her. “I could sell this.”
“What do you mean, ‘sell this’?”
He released her. Stepping in front of her, he swept his hand out to include every item in the place. “Your cat furniture. I know people who buy furniture. I’m vice president of marketing. I head the sales and the merchandising teams.” He cocked his left eyebrow and shrugged. “It was Holden’s idea. Turns out I’m good at it. I get along with people. They like me. Without me, the business wouldn’t do as well.”
“I believe you.”
His eyebrow came down, and his eyes narrowed. “I could help you, too. Just drop a word or two here and—”
She put her hand over his lips. “Selling isn’t the problem, it’s keeping up. We need to hire people, buy equipment for Sam, and find a better place to make the furniture. We’re supporting ourselves on this and even making money. But every time we start saving money, something goes wrong.”
“Like what?”
“The roof.” She peered upward. “It collapsed this past winter. Every piece of furniture in here was ruined. It all had to be redone.”
“Wasn’t it insured?”
She shook her head, her lips clamped shut. Not wanting to say anything against Sam, who’d been sick about the entire thing. “We were saving everything we could. Sam had to buy new saws, and she thought the roof would last at least until we could afford something bigger. And then we had all that heavy, wet snow....” Just thinking about it twisted her stomach.
He put his hand on her shoulder. “That’s tough.”
“A lot of people have it worse,” she said with a shrug. “Sam and I have a plan. We tried to get an angel investor group to help us last week, but no one was interested.”
“They’re probably dog lovers.”
Her humorless laugh turned into a series of choking barks. She clamped her lips together and shook her head. As if she could shake away every mistake and disaster, from the small to the big to the gigantic. Sometimes it felt like she’d made them all.
Lowering her hand, she took a deep breath before talking again. “We’ll be okay. I’m going to sell my house, and we can use the money to see what we can finance. Maybe we can find a small p
lant somewhere. We don’t even have to buy it; we can rent it. Start out small.”
“Have you thought of going to Kickstarter?”
“We think we’d do all right on something like that, but not enough to get the money we need. It’s more impressive to see at least a couple of pieces in person so backers can see the quality. And then show the brochure with the different designs. We can show our orders in the past year. We can show everything.” She scrunched her face, because she felt scrunchy thinking about all the work ahead to find a new angel. Again. Just as it seemed the possible could happen, it became impossible.
“Two of the investors from the angel group wanted to invest, and three didn’t.” Her chest tightened. It had been so close.
He squeezed her shoulder. “Hey, it’s tough out there. We’re up against products made in Asia. It’s not the slam dunk it used to be for us, either.”
Taking a deep breath to open up her chest, she reminded herself they weren’t the first to face adversity. Almost everyone did. Winners didn’t quit. Winners kept going. They had to. If they gave up, the minute they quit trying and took that first step back, they became losers.
She nodded. “This is turning into a depressing date.”
“We’ll blame it on Aunt Daisy.”
Her laugh sounded like it came from under water. Maybe that was it. While trying to save herself, she was emotionally drowning. “Daisy told me from the beginning that you wouldn’t be perfect for me.” She twisted from his loose grip on her shoulders. “Sam and I aren’t giving up. It might take us another year or two, but we’ll do it.”
“Great attitude.” He walked beside her to the door and waited while she turned off the lights and locked up. She felt embarrassed by the flimsy lock that any thief would be able to break.
In the car, he drove slowly down the drive. When they became even with the garage, he stopped his car and hunched down to look at the car parked by Sam’s garage.
“Is that a BMW?” he asked.
“You’re asking the wrong person. It’s light gray and it’s a car. I have no idea what kind it is unless I’m close enough to read the name.”
“Good idea.” He put the car in park, opened the door, and stepped out. Standing on the driveway, he stuck his head back in. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
